


Stories from the Other Side

by CongressIsAliens



Series: The Kaitlyn and Levi Saga [5]
Category: Marching Band/Colorguard/Drumline
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Fluff, Front Ensemble, Kissing, Marching Band, Mutual Pining, other perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-24 08:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16636304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CongressIsAliens/pseuds/CongressIsAliens
Summary: What was Kaitlyn thinking during the events of The Pit's NOT the Pits?Plus a dream sequence.Last work in the Kaitlyn and Levi saga.I hope this is enough wrap-up for all y’all.I've been working on this one since September, so enjoy the best work!





	Stories from the Other Side

It was a cold September Monday morning, the sun hidden behind some thick clouds. I looked out of the window in the room my sister and I shared (I was born 3 minutes after Jenny, so I was the youngest and therefore had to have the bottom bunk.) Two years ago today marked the unofficial start of my crush on Levi. And I had yet to act on it, which probably meant it was futile. I had almost given up, except for one tiny glimmer of hope radiating out of my heart (which I guard fiercely, so I don’t get hurt).  
  
With that wonderfully happy thought in mind, I pulled on a random pair of jeans and a t-shirt and went downstairs to grab my bag, shove my lunch bag, sticks, music, and last night’s homework in it and walk out to where the bus stopped. I plugged my headphones into my phone and pressed play. Time for another day of proving I’m useless.  
  
Of course, school. School was completely and fairily shitty. Raising my hand in chemistry was a terrible idea (I was completely wrong, and I was sure everyone thought I was stupid) and at lunch the table I normally sat at Kathy sat at today, and she’s the meanest gossip girl in the school. She was awful, and did nothing to help my shitty day. Everybody says once you hit rock bottom, there’s nowhere to go but up. Well, I say pickaxes exist for a reason. She spent the whole time tearing at me, my sister Jenny, and my older brother Ben (who was a senior and going to study in Japan next year). Which was real nice.  
  
Then, to top it all off, at marching band, my marimba got stuck in the door mid-transition. The cymbal bar was off, as well as the cymbals. Katy had taken that down. The low bars were taken off and folded upwards. The mallet bags were flipped up. (they were wider than you would think they would be.) The cables were stowed on the hooks on the underside of the frame. All for efficiency’s sake, but just my luck I would get something wrong. It was the frame that stuck fast after a fluke wheel spin out. Who else was around? Only Levi. Again, just my luck. The winds and guard and battery and almost all of the rest of the pit had gone, with just Cassandra working with the soundboard with Brianna and Aiden in the band room.  
  
We were alone.  
  
Levi was thinking practically (unlike me, I was basically like “THE WORLD IS ENDING AND MCKEE AND IRVING ARE GOING TO BE SO MAD”) and told me to stand back while he unstuck it. He yanked it free and although it still took like 3 minutes to get turn it out (we were extra careful), it was soon out in the open.  
  
Now was my chance. We were alone, and just standing there for a couple seconds like “we did it!”, smiling because we just avoided a really sheepish conversation with Mckee. Mood? Big happy. I felt like going out on a limb and doing something to break the crush. The stupid two years of dancing around him will not have gone to waste!  
  
I had two choices.  
  
Actually, three.  
  
One, tell him how I felt in words and grammar and stuff.  
  
Hell no.  
  
Two, kiss him and hope he isn’t repulsed.  
  
Also hell no.  
  
Three, don’t do anything.  
  
Best option.  
  
Fuck it.  
  
I looked up from my shoes. I pulled myself up to my full height and raised my chin. And I kissed him on the cheek. I instantly regretted it. I opened myself up for rejection, I asked for it.  
  
But when I said “we should go down to the field now” to my shoes, all he said was “uhm, uh, yeah.” it hit me like a brick.  
  
I could see the brick coming from a long way off, and didn’t move, hoping the brick wouldn’t hit me. And then I slammed my head into it early.  
  
That’s what it felt like, anyway.  
  
I didn’t realize it yet, but that was my heart breaking.  
  
While we reassemble our marimbas, and really, for the rest of practice, he doesn’t talk to me. It’s a good thing, because I’m trying not to lose it completely. Besides, it’s for the best, right? He deserves someone who won’t slow him down, someone who he likes. He obviously hates me now.  
  
Right?  
  
Later, after practice is over, Ben comes to pick me up.  
  
I get in the backseat (“no sitting in the front seat, unless your mom or I are driving” -dad) Unfortunately, on the way home, I just lose it. I start bawling in the backseat of the car.  
  
“What’s wrong, Kait?”  
  
“N-nothing.”  
  
“Doesn’t sound like nothing. What happened?”  
  
“I can’t describe it.”  
  
“Can you try and tell me? It’s ok if it’s not perfect.”  
  
“I had an awful day and then my marimba got stuck at band then Levi was the only one around to help and I’ve had feelings for him forever, and he helped me get it out, then we were just standing and I kissed him while we were still alone and then he didn’t say anything and he just said ‘yeah’ when I said we should go to the field and he hates me now and I wish I never had feelings at all!”  
  
(Later, Ben would tell me he only caught basically “something something awful something marimba something Levi something something feelings for him something helped me something I kissed him something something he didn’t say anything something something he hates me now something never had feelings at all!”, but he still got the gist.)  
  
“It’s ok. It’ll be ok, Kait. Let it all out. We’ll be home soon, then you can eat and go to bed. It’ll be ok, I promise. I’ll do as much as I can to make it ok.”  
  
I felt slightly better by the time we got home. I still cried myself to sleep, after telling basically the same thing to Jenny. Our mom and dad tried to help, according to Jenny, but she told them I needed some time. Which I did. It just hurt. It hurt so bad. I knew I shouldn’t have hoped, he never would have loved garbage like me. It never would have worked. I never should have hoped. I still did. I felt betrayed by myself. I swore to never have a crush again.  
  
Tuesday was worse. I had a total of 1 class over the 2 days with Levi. Our school used a A/B block day system. It was ok. (As class scheduling/administration goes. Having a class with Levi was not ok. I mean, it was, because he sat right in front of me and I could daydream, but right now it was not ok.) That one class was history.  
  
He was even in my group in the latest seating chart.  
  
He didn’t even talk to me the whole time in class. I knew he hated me, but this was classwork. This was a group with four people. (Heidi, James, Levi, and I.) This was a freaking discussion on the post-World War II effects on the bombs on Japan. Not rocket science, not emotions, history. Straight facts. He had to talk to me. He never did. I was nearly in tears by the end of it.  
  
Which brings me to where I am now, crying in the girls room in the business hall. Far from the cafeteria, where Levi is surely making fun of me with his friends.  
  
“Kaitlyn?”  
  
“Go away.”  
  
Elaine, of course. Who else would try to get Levi and I together, knowing he has probably hated me for a long time. She probably thought it would be funny, get the popular, hot percussionist everyone likes with the ugly one with the lisp.  
  
“Why are you crying?”  
  
“I said, go away!”  
  
“I’m not going to go until you tell me why you’re crying here alone during your lunch.”  
  
It all comes pouring out. The bad day, the kiss, the doubts, and today.  
  
Elaine immediately says “I’ll be back.” and runs out of the bathroom, muttering “that motherfucker” under her breath.  
  
It’s maybe five minutes before she returns, then she unlocks the door from the outside and just hugs me for a good long while. She leaves to get back to her class (even though she was gone for like 20 minutes, her teacher is surely wondering where she is), and I’m still there. The bell rings, and I have to go to my next class, French.  
  
C’est ugh.  
  
I really don’t feel like French. Or really, any classes, right about now.

The rest of the day goes about as well.

  
That night, I have a dream. A very odd dream.  
  
“Hello Kaitlyn.”  
  
“Who are you?”  
  
“I am Diana. I am here to show you photos of your life. I’m your guardian angel. These are events that will happen in your life. Tonight, I will show you the happy future memories. You will not remember any of the details when you wake up, only the feelings of happy and safe will remain. Let’s start, shall we?”  
  
“Um, ok…”  
  
“This is you now. You’re at the worst point in your life so far, yes? Don’t fret, the best point is only a few hours away.”  
  
“What the...?”  
  
“This is you being asked out for the first time.”  
  
“Who’s asking me out?”  
  
“Oh, don’t worry. When we finish, I’ll show you who it is.”  
  
“Anyway, this is you on your first date, just 2 days later.”  
  
“Where am I?”  
  
“That Chinese place near the high school.”  
  
“Oh. Carry on.”  
  
“This is you holding hands with your boyfriend.”  
  
“It’s just hands. It could be anyone.”  
  
“This is your first kiss.”  
  
“That could be any two pairs of legs in black pants and shoes. Also, are we seriously in a gravel lot?”  
  
“Yes, but it’s you, and yes, you are!”  
  
“Ok…”  
  
“This is you and your boyfriend cuddling on the couch watching something. Very nice.”  
  
“...”  
  
“Oh, this one’s nice. It’s been six months, congrats!”  
  
“Why this?”  
  
“Why not? Oh, this one’s beautiful. See, you’re kissing him on the field at championships! It’s actual choreography!”  
  
“All you did was black his face out in like the last 3 pics. Also, no PDA in uniform.”  
  
“Well, yes, can’t have you knowing who it is, and angles are hard. Besides, it happens anyway.”

“You’re strange.”

 

“I know. Here’s a few more cute pics from junior year.”

 

“Uh…thanks.”

  
“This is you being a drum major for the first time.”  
  
“Cool! I look super awkward though…”  
  
“And your salute at your last first competition.”  
  
“Cool…”  
  
“And this, which is an actual picture you guys will take after your final Finals.”  
  
“Woah.”  
  
“Cool, right? Aaaand here’s you guys at junior prom, matching tuxes, nice. Here’s your senior prom photo, ooh, you let Elaine dress you up nice for this one. You are super amazing, girl! You look like a freaking constellation!”  
  
“That can’t be me. Are you sure that’s me?”  
  
“Yup. And, here’s the first time Levi stays the night.”  
  
“Um, ok...”  
  
“Ooh, you’re a valedictorian!”  
  
“Nice! Wait, is this your first time seeing some of these?”  
  
“A few of them, yeah. You guys at the same college, in the same drum corps, you’re roommates, you’re in the Mandarins show My Past and My Now, they’re in a trilogy of shows. Last one’s My Future, by the way. You age out before the last one.  And there you are on the field, last show, in the My Now show!”  
  
“On the field? On the Mandarins? No way.”  
  
“Yes way. Look!”  
  
“Holy golden guacamole, is he proposing in the middle of a show?”  
  
“Technically, it’s at the end.”  
  
“I’m still getting proposed to! Wait, is it the same guy from high school and stuff?”  
  
“Mhm-hm! Here’s you guys graduating college, entering grad school, then your wedding!”  
  
“I’m really wondering who he is! Also, that’s weird, same guy from high school. Does not seem believeable, at all. I mean, what are the odds?”

  
“You’ll see. Here’s you guys in your little house, your new husband, ah, inherited it from his family. And there you guys are, playing marimba together in the evening!”  
  
“What do you mean inherited it? Also, that’s super cool, 2 marimbas. I mean, I guess with not needing to rent an apartment, that’s cool…”

 

“Wedding photos! Sha-bam!” 

“That’s a really neat dress design.”

“Well, thank Elaine.”

“ELAINE MAKES MY WEDDING DRESS, FOR A GUY I DATE IN HIGH SCHOOL, AND YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT I STAY WITH HIM FOREVER? THIS IS NOT REAL. YOU’RE LEADING ME ON, AREN’T YOU?”

  
“Woah, sit down, calm down. You’ll see. There you are, graduating grad school! First real lab job for you, first real job for him! You’re a microbiologist, he’s a bankruptcy lawyer. Oh, and positive pregnancy test just 2 years later!”  
  
“What? I have KIDS?”  
  
“Yup! Just one, though. There’s your announcement!”  
  
“That looks really cool.”  
  
“Ayup! Very creative! Elaine has quite the eye for design. She took the final Finals ones too.”  
  
“Nice. She does, like everything.”

“Here’s you holding your daughter, Leah Greene, and here’s her as a baby, a toddler, a child, a tween, a teen, and her in college. It’s a little fast, but it’s your life I’m showing you, not hers yet. Here’s her getting married to a wonderful woman named Lilliana. Some more pics of you guys happy together. And this is where you guys die. Age 87, you die in your sleep, old age, within 2 hours of each other.”  
  
“It’s cool that we have a daughter, but who is it? Who do I go out with, get married to, have a child with? Who do I die together with? Also, why did I keep my last name?”  
  
”I’m surprised you haven’t gotten it yet. Well, except the last name thing. But I at least expected you to figure out who.”  
  
“Well, I haven’t.”  
  
“Here’s the uncropped version of that first kiss pic.”  
  
“We’re in marching uniforms, in the lot, at Camp Tigard, ok, he’s got black hair, he’s taller than me, no gloves or gauntlets, so... Oh no. No no no. Is that-“  
  
“Levi? Yes, yes it is.”  
  
“But doesn’t he hate me?”  
  
“There are 2 perspectives to every event.”  
  
“Whatever. That makes no sense. He hates me.”  
  
“Believe in yourself! He does not. Anyway, here’s all the unedited photos. Take a look!”  
  
“Sure. Thanks.”  
  
“Anyway, any other questions?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Have a great day tomorrow.”  
  
“Wait!”  
  
“Yes?”

  
“When does he ask me out?”  
  
“Tomorrow.”  
  
“WHAT?”  
  
“Have a nice life! I may be back, just so you know. Look at those pictures, then go out this door when you want to wake up!”  
  
I push myself up in bed. I just had the most wonderful dream, and I remember only being shown pictures of nice happy things. My life. I think.  
  
I am not looking forwards to marching band tonight. I can spend lunch in the library, (not in the band room, there’s mice, besides, Levi would probably be there if it was an option) my classes shut up, and between school and band listening to my music cranked up in the business hall girl’s room, but I have to be around Levi in band. AKA, standing right next to him literally the whole time. I don’t even have concert band with him, he’s in the junior’s band because he’s a percussion god. In music block, I distract myself by concentrating extra hard on my playing, and funneling my pain into my music. Even though the music is upbeat and light. It kind of works. Cassandra tells me to lighten up more than a couple times.  
  
Transition is the best part of rehearsal. I ask Ginger to help me instead today. (The rule of 2- marimba players must have another pit person with them to help them out with getting through doors quickly. Usually, the 2 marimbas, whoever they are, go together to go even faster. Not today.) It means I don’t have to say anything other than ‘hang on, let me flip one more bar up’ and ‘little more left’.  
  
And later, I gather my pride (what few splinters I still have),  and talk to Elaine during a break.  
  
“I still feel like I shouldn’t have done that.”  
  
(Understatement of the century. I feel like I’m being ripped apart.)  
  
”Kaitlyn. It was not a mistake. He does like you.”  
  
As if.  
  
”Yeah but what if-“  
  
I’m cut off by a certain someone walking behind me.  
  
”What if what?”  
  
Ohhhh shit.

  
“Oh, uhhh, hey, Levi!”  
  
I sound surprisingly sane.  
  
”Yo, Kaitlyn, I’m gonna go to the bathroom, if I’m not back in time, tell tech I’m there.”  
  
Oh great. My backup left. That was gonna be my excuse to get out of here. You suck, Elaine.  
  
”Ok...”  
  
”So, how are you doing, Kaitlyn?”  
  
Awful, asshole.  
  
”Uhm...good...”.  
  
”Good. Got any plans this weekend?”  
  
Just hanging and ignoring everybody in favor of binging Netflix and eating ice cream, perhaps some tears. All over you. Really, a wonderful way to spend my last free weekend.  
  
”Not really, no...you?”  
  
Of course he has plans. He’s popular. What am I thinking?  
  
”Well, I was hoping I would...”  
  
Hoping. Seriously, out with it, dude. Tell me how popular and wonderful you are.  
  
”Really?”  
  
”I was hoping I’d be on a date.”  
  
You broke my heart, and now you ask me to wingman for you? Is that what you’re asking?  
  
”oh. you have a girlfriend?”  
  
”Not yet.”  
  
He’s definitely asking me to wingman.  
  
”Huh?”  
  
”Would you like to go get dinner after the game with me Friday?”  
  
Wait. WHAT?  
  
This isn’t happening.  
  
This is not happening.  
  
This is absolutely not happening.  
  
This is most definitely not happening.  
  
THIS IS HAPPENING!  
  
”Wha...oh...uhm...yes! Of course!”  
  
Holy golden guacamole. My heart is racing.  
  
”Hey band! Field in 30 seconds!”  
  
”Uhm...we should go. Uh, do you know where Elaine is?”  
  
Seriously, where is she? It’s been eternity!  
  
”Right there.”  
  
Oh good.  
  
”Ok. Let’s go.”  
  
I almost grab his hand.  
  
Not quite, though.  
  
Even though he asked me out, it’s probably just pity. It always is, right?  
  
That, or Elaine put him up to it. I wouldn’t put it past her.

The rest of rehearsal, I feel like I’m floating. If there’s anything higher than cloud nine, I’m on it. I’m pretty sure Cassandra is incredibly confused about my sudden mood change, from depressed to kinda optimistic. 

And if it sounds better than real life, with going from depressed to overly exuberant, well, I just got asked out by goddamn 2 year crush, who I thought hated me.

If that doesn’t make anyone crazy mood swing, I don’t know what would.

  
That night, as Ben drives me home, he notices my stupid grin. Which is a pretty stark contrast from ugly crying (really, not like I can cry pretty, kind of hard to cry pretty when you’re ugly).  
  
“Chipper, aren’t you?”  
  
“Yup!”  
  
“What, did someone ask you out?”  
  
“How’d you know?”  
  
“Wait, it’s true? I was joking! When is it? Where? Who?”  
  
“After the game Friday we’re just gonna get food together.”  
  
“Yeah, but who? Is it a band person, or...”  
  
”Band person.”  
  
”Is it that snare boy that seems to always be ogling you?”  
  
“Who, Mark? No, he’s dating that tall clarinet girl.”  
  
“One of the saxes?”  
  
“Nope!”  
  
“A brass player?”  
  
”Nope.”  
  
”Woodwind?”  
  
”No...”  
  
“Battery?”

“Still a big fat Nope. And not a guard person either.”  
  
“Ah! A pit person.”  
  
”Yes.”  
  
“Aiden?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Liam?”  
  
“Ew, no, he’s an eighth grader!”  
  
“Are you trying to tell me you’re gay?”  
  
”NO! I mean, nothing against gay people, but I’m not gay.”  
  
“Well. It can’t be Levi because he ‘hates your guts’.”  
  
“Actually…umm... it is.”  
  
“NO. WAY.”  
  
“It’s probably just pity, that or Katy made him do it, but it’ll be fun while it lasts.”  
  
Ben pulls over into a random neighborhood, and stops the car. He turns around in his seat and looks at me, and speaks in a strangely serious voice.  
  
“If that boy breaks your heart, or strings you along, or cheats, or is a jerk, I will Kick. His. Ass.”  
  
“You really don’t have to… I’m sure this won’t last… he deserves someone so much better.”  
  
“I’m going to be serious here. You don’t think like that. You’re so much better then you think you are. You do deserve him, he deserves you. Remember, the Joneses are good friends of our family, especially Mom. You’ve been friends with him since you were a baby. We’ve all met him. We all know the whole family. Frankly, I think Mom and Dad were hoping you’d get with him. I think that you are way too hard on yourself. Try to think in his shoes. He was probably flustered and surprised you kissed him. You make him speechless, which is a good thing. It means he likes you. He gets nervous around you. He cares about what you think. He loves you. And like I said, if he breaks your heart, I will kick his ass. And you know what? You deserve him. You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re kind, and you’re way too hard on yourself. I don’t want to hear another self-deprecating thing tonight out of you, alright?”  
  
The tone in his voice basically says “don’t question this, young lady”, and I want to believe him so bad. Maybe I should take his words to heart. I want to say “yeah. sure.” all sarcastic like.  
  
But I don’t.  
  
I just agree, then put in my headphones in and listen to some music. When I get home, Jenny has almost the same reaction. (Holy wow you’re going on a date? Who? Lemme guess, literally everybody but Levi has potential. It’s Levi? WHAT? No way. You think it’s pity? You’re too hard on yourself. I mean, you go, girl! But seriously though, enough with the downerism.)

It’s pretty awesome to have a date, and have your family already know and like your boyfriend.  
  
Do I even call him that? Or do I call him by a pet name? Or still his regular name?  
  
I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask Friday. It’s still better to be safe.  
  
Thursday morning feels a lot better than most mornings. I look out the window and see clouds, but also a bird or two and all the colorful leaves laying on the ground. I spend a few more seconds picking out clothes. Breakfast tastes good. Maybe it’s just the fact mom got a different type of jam. Probably that. I can't stand raspberries. The bus is on time, for the first time in for freaking ever, and I look out the window most of the time. Usually I do homework, but I did it in the bathroom yesterday. Plus side of not hanging out with friends-I can get stuff done.

Chemistry is okay. Notes. Nuthin’ but notes. I get asked to do something on the board and I get it right. I’m surprised at myself. Probably luck.   
  
History is...not awful. More post-World War II discussion, this time about negotiations, but we have a random discussion in my group about communism. It’s always a fun topic to discuss with friends. (Our verdict- great on paper, terrible in practice.)  
  
Lunch is just like normal, but somehow, everything seems just a little brighter. Kathy is absent. I hope she got salmonella. I can still feel the pang of her words, though. Even though everyone seems just a bit happier, it just  _lingers._  
  
In French, we have a pop quiz and a substitute, so we take the quiz and watch part of a movie in French. With very bad subtitles. It was OK. More fun to make fun of then to watch.  
  
And English is very much normal. Read a chapter in the book, (The Lord of the Flies) and analyze it. Not the best but certainly not the worst.   
  
By the time I ride the bus home, I realize I had a pretty good day.  
  
It wasn’t even a special day.  
  
Not even close.  
  
Why?  
  
The rest of the season goes moderately well. Going on a couple dates with Levi, going to rehearsal, and lessons, and youth symphony, and school, and 3 competitions, makes for a very busy several weeks.

The first date is awesome, even though it was cold and it rained on the walk back to the game. The second date, we met up at Cook Park on a Sunday and just walked around for a while, ending up watching a Little League game (that the Tigard team won. I’m not a baseball person, and neither is Levi, but it was fun to cheer on. Also, one of my other friends, Stacia, was umpiring, so that was cool). 

It’s all one big fat blur.  
  
Too soon it’s championships. We're having the final rehearsal, leaving the school, staying overnight in a motel. All too quickly, we're eating breakfast and going to the lot. Too soon we’re unloading, dressing in our uniforms, following our U of O guide to our warmup spot, and warming up. First just pit. Then just percussion. Then full music ensemble. The guard usually meets us in the tunnel.  Too soon, we’re lining up just outside the tunnel. The whole pit is lined up in order of left to right, left in front, with Mckee all the way leading on her quad, pulling the pit cart. (AKA rack cart. We don't have an actual rack.)

In the tunnel, it’s light at our end. It’s dark at the opposite end, where the guard is.  We have to stay fully in the tunnel until the group before us is done. It’s unfortunately sloped at juuuust the barely-worst angle, so we have to stand in front of our instruments and lean back against the frames while we wait. Cassandra goes up the line, holding the back while we run up to the front. It’s easier to lean than to pull, and we don’t run the risk of straining our arms. We also can’t talk in the tunnel above extremely quiet whispers so I just go over the show in my head, my back pressed against the frame and hands tapping out the rhythms on my legs.

It feels like forever before we run out under the cloudy sky, pulling our instruments behind us. (To get on the field from the Lean: turn around, lower out of the tunnel until all the way on the turf, run to the back, push onto the field into position, all as fast as possible.)

General placement, alignment, connect mikes to cables, connect cables to the sound board thingy (still don’t know quite what it’s called), check alignment again, behind keyboard, check cymbal angles, check if mallets are in the right place, grab starting set, thumbs up.

Bam, ready.

“Are the judges ready?”

“Is the ensemble ready?”

Bam, salute.

“Performing their program White Blank Page, the NWAPA is proud to present the Tigard Marching Ensemble!”

Bam, hands up. Bam, playing. Not a particularly difficult pit book this year, but it’s a powerful program nonetheless. Bam, the few visuals we have. (A high five to Brianna, a back to back triangle hit with Levi, a “raise-up” midair with my right hand while the left plays a chord, and some grooving during a cheerful part.)

Bam, the final hit, the shoving the mallets away, the joining hands. The whole band joins hands, even connecting with the pit at the rack and the bass guitar to make an amazing “circle of unity and peace and stuff” (how Declan, the vis tech, described it).

And the center snare starts the step off and we all rush in our exit routine- disconnect from sound board thingy, disconnect from mikes, cables on keys, shove lower end outward, pull and rotate, shove-run out the far tunnel after the guard. Out the gates at the end of the tunnel, park, and wait for Mckee to park the quad and talk to us. We talk briefly, then we  grab a pair of mallets for group pictures. The pit lines up right behind the battery, but in front of the brass for the group pictures on some steps around the corner from the tunnel gates. 

First picture- Shakos on, serious face. Doesn’t really apply much to us, we don't wear 'em.

Second picture- No shakos, serious face. Basically the same as the last.

Third picture- No shakos, smiling. The euphoria hasn’t worn off, so it’s super genuine. In my experience, the euphoria won’t leave until we do at the end of the day.

Fourth picture- The funny picture. Usually people do funny faces, or pose with friends. But not this time.

All of a sudden Levi puts his mallets in my hand, and freakin  _picks me up bridal style_ and before I can open my mouth in protest, the photographer shouts “3, 2, 1, SMILE!” And we grin stupidly, the flash goes off, and he sets me gently back down on my feet.

We speedwalk back to our keyboards (no running in uniform, even at championships unless you’re getting off the field) and I look at Levi incredulously.

“What was that?”

“I’ve kind of wanted to do that for awhile. I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

“It’s ok. It was pretty awesome. I can’t wait to see what it looks like!”

“Hey, that will be pretty cool. I wasn’t really thinking about that. Say, where are we going for lunch?”

“Shari’s, duh! Where we always go! Real question is, do we include Elaine in the pit table?”

“Well, hmmm. She’s like half battery half pit, she marches with the battery but does music with the pit, and the battery usually goes to Taco Bell, so let’s ask her I guess?”

“Yeah. Watch out, there’s a puddle there.”

“Championships would be perfect if it wasn’t for the gravel lot.”

“I know.”

“Were we in this row?”

“I think so.”

“Ok, yeah, here’s Camp Tigard.”

“Oh, good, the parents put up the garage, it’s the best place to hang the uniform bags when you change. Especially in the gravel lot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, here, I’ll show ya.”

“Usually I change on the bus, so, y’know, never done that.”

“It’s not like we’re actually changing, just taking off our jackets and bibs and changing shoes.”

“Well, yeah. But I like to unwind a bit.”

“See, hang it on the bar here.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve seen people do that. Hey, I think Matthew took my uniform bag.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s M. Jones, and I’m L. Jones, and mine’s not here, so he probably took it. It’s cool though, I’ll go find him.”

“Ok, see you later.”

“See you later.”

I grab my bag, hang it up, and start to get out of the musty uniform. Of course, my stupid ass forgot my street shoes at the motel, so I have to wear my Drillmasters on the bus.

They pinch.

Ten minutes after I’m done, almost everyone is on the busses, ready for lunch. All of a sudden, Katy bursts up the steps of the bus and calls out

“HEY BAND!”

We respond with a half-hearted “Hey what?” (hey, we're tired and decompressing here, can't really blame us. I mean, we're all pumped but also exhausted.)

All in one breath she blurts out-

“Declan says the circle of unity and peace and stuff looked better than it ever has so awesome job guys that’s really cool okay byeeeee!”

and rushes off the bus.

A few cheers, than everybody goes back to chitchatting. 

5 minutes later we’re heading back to the hotel, 15 minutes later we're there, and 20 minutes after that we’re packed and ready to go to lunch, all our stuff on the bus. Mckee calls us all over and takes section counts.

“Alright! Section call! Section leaders represent! Flutes!”

“All here!”

“Clarinets!”

“We good!”

“Saxes!”

“Here, here, here, and here!”

“Trumpets!”

“¡Hola!”

“Mellos!”

“Mmm-yep.”

“Low brass!”

“Yup.”

“Guard!”

“1...2...3...4...5...6...7… all here.”

“Field Drums!” (Instead of Battery and Pit, like before, we're now subdivided more. It's probably better this way, but sometimes Mckee forgets a catergory.)

“I mean, I think we're all here, hang on, where's- oh there he is. Yeah, we're all here.”

“Electronics!’

“Here and here!”

“Rack!”

“Yeah, I’m here”

“Mallets!”

“Liam, Ginger, Kaitlyn, Elaine, yeah we're good!”

“Alright! Are all rooms cleaned out, and ready to go? We are NOT coming back, so speak now or forever hold your peace!”

~brief moment of silence while everyone thinks than mutters “I’m good.”~

“Okay, be back by 1:30. It’s noon now, so that’s an hour and a half from now. Should be plenty of time. If you have trouble, call me right away. You all have my number, yes? No groups smaller than 3, tip 15% at least, bus doors open at 1:10. Ready split!”

“Hey Elaine!”

“Hey Kaitlyn!”

“Want to go to Shari’s with the pit or Taco Bell with the drumline?”

“Shari’s. I don’t like beans.”

“That makes eight of us then. C’mon!”

“Alright, hold your horses. I gotta change my shoes.”

“You forgot your street shoes here too?”

“Yeah. I just didn’t change in the room like I should have.”

After Elaine changes her shoes and Liam grabs his jacket, we set off on the stupid route to Shari’s.

It’s called the stupid route because instead of just crossing the street, we have to go allllll the way down to the intersection, cross, and then allllll the way back. So we basically sprint. All of us. The clarinets and low brass also usually go to Shari’s, so a large pack of teenagers sprinting down a sidewalk, all dressed quite similarly, is a little strange.

Lunch was pretty good, with new inside jokes being created, some old people asking if we were a sports team, (to which we replied, Yeah, we’re the Tigard marching band, yeah marching band is a sport), and Katy and Liam doing the pit initiation, all before the food arrived.

“Elaine, Liam, you have to do the initiation! I almost forgot!”

“Initiation? What? What even is it?”

“On the first championships Shari’s trip, you chug your water, then, eat this. Rite of passage.”

“Truvia? Are you insane, Kaitlyn?”

“It’s, well, just see.”

“Did all of you guys all do it?”

“Yep. I remember mine. It was, according to Evan and Eddie, hilarious."

"It was hilarious to me too until I had to do it."

"It was funny seeing you go all red in the face. But kinda cute too."

“I’ll go first, if you guys'll hold off the flirting.”

We all had shit-eating grins on our faces. I’m sure Elaine could tell, but she grabbed her water, chugged, and grabbed the Truvia packet out of my hand. 

“Go on, get out your phones, record it, I don’t care.”

I pull out my phone. This is gonna be good. 

She ripped open the packet, widened the opening, and poured it all down her throat. Seconds later, Liam does the same.

And they started coughing and choking on it.

From personal experience, chugging Truvia is awful, especially when you just drank all your water. It's a double whammy.

Fortunately for Elaine and Liam, the food arrives soon after that.  

I don’t pity them. I had to go through that same experience when I was in eighth grade. Evan and Eddie (two people that graduated last year. They were awesome marimbists. We both played vibes as freshmen. Levi played xylo as an eighth grader, I did rack.) brought it up midway through the meal, and all the upperclassmen made me go first. It was just me and Levi doing it that year. I have never touched a packet of sweetener since. Not only is it disgusting, but it’s hard to choke down without water. Last year Ginger and Emily did it, and Ginger ran to the bathroom for water.

It’s kinda funny.

We get back to where the busses are at 1:07. Our group splits onto the busses at 1:10 (two this time, no one wants to squeeze two to a seat with all their stuff), with Elaine, Emily, Aiden, and Brianna going up to the front bus and Levi, Ginger, Liam and I going to the back bus. It's a little too cold to just stand around outside. Even though the baritones have almost succeeded in their quest to light a small pile of dried leaves on fire with a pair of glasses. On our bus, Liam’s sitting literally right behind the driver, Ginger is about two-thirds of the way back, and Levi and I are about a third of the way back, in seats across from each other. 

Stretching out on the way back so you can sleep is more important than curling up close anyway. On the way over, it’s maybe 7 PM and kind of dark, so we threw all our stuff on my seat and sat squished next to each other until we got there. But now we lie on the seats, stuff on the floor, feet on the windows, just talking.

According to Matthew, the leaves smoked a bit but never caught. 

At 1:35, Mckee comes and takes abbreviated roll. On the front bus, it’s full roll, then everyone who didn’t answer gets their name called now. Then on the road again, then at the lot we leave all our stuff on the bus, then head into the stands. 

We win in our class (A, which is bands <75 people), with all the caption awards but one. (High Auxiliary, which, after watching their Century video, Glencoe really did deserve to win.)

Then right back to the lot to dress and warm up. 

Warmup goes smoothly and beautifully. We sound good, and according to Declan, we look good. 

At the gate, however, before we head into the tunnel, we run into problems. Lots of problems. Scheduling mishaps, conflicting info, and a call to the event coordinator means a surprise break and about 15 minutes worth of nerve-wracking waiting. 

“How are you holding up?”

”Nervous.”

”Yeah, this surprise break is not helping.”

”I feel like we’re going to crush it, but I’m still worried.”

”C’mere, Beautiful.”

Levi pulls me into a tight hug. It’s exactly what I need, to feel his heartbeat, be held close in his arms, be told that it’s gonna be alright. 

“You’re gonna slay.” he murmurs in my ear.

Mckee comes back and hops on the quad. 

“OK, let’s move! Clock starts in 1 minute so pit needs to get out there ASAP! Natalie, lead marchers out to the 30 and wait for Rebecca to tell you when. Let’s do this!”

Levi opens his arms and we grab our boards and shoot down the tunnel. 

We set up, we thumbs up, we mallets up, we play.

We play our hearts out. It may not be a significant year for us, but it’s still championships. It’s still a show we’ve worked on all season. It’s still a show we can- and should- be proud of. 

I love it.

We push out of the tunnel, out of the gates. The air is heavy with emotion but light with joy. The sun is just setting, turning the sky a gorgeous pink-orange. A slightly longer talk with Mckee leaves no one with dry eyes. I’ll miss the seniors. 

We push straight onto the truck when we get back to the lot. The truck holds the front ensemble keyboards, soundboard, uniform racks, and speakers, as well as the garage (which is basically to keep stuff dry while we’re at lunch). The trailer has the cart, the quad, the field drums, and serves as the female guard changing room. We have one guard dude that runs off to a porta-potty to change. Sucks for him, but whatever. He’s a good sport about it and he graduates this year anyway.

I’m standing around in my uniform, talking with Elaine, who’s showing me something on her phone (she changes as fast as humanly possible, seriously, she’s got a record of about 45 seconds, including hanging it up and putting dryer sheets in the shoe tips). Might as well keep wearing it, for football playoffs we do a final “fun run” in costumes, and that’s our putting it to bed rep, so I want to still wear it just a little longer. It’s a nice uniform, even if it smells like mothballs. 

She leaves to get a stadium bag together, and Levi comes over. We start talking about the show. He’s still in full uniform too. 

He did a really nice job. His solo 2 measures sounded great, like always. I know he had been stressing out about the 16th notes, but they sounded amazing.

“Great job, cutie!”

”Aw, thanks. You’re always so enthusiastic. So, I’m Cutie instead of Leevy now?”

I mean, it feels more natural, but your opinion matters. If you don’t like it, I’m happy to stop. 

”...yeah...”

”It’s ok, I like it. Hey, uhm, can I kiss you?”

Holy fucking hell yes! (Also, thanks for asking)

”Of course!”

I wish I could tell you it was perfect, and angels sang as we gently, slowly, _passionately_ pressed our lips together, and it tasted like caramel and chocolate, but it didn’t.

It was awkward and a little (ok, a lot) hasty, and our teeth clicked together, and someone was Rick-rolling someone else in the background, and it tasted like sweat, but it was ours. It was wonderful. Besides, there’s a lot more down the road. This doesn’t have to be perfect.

I’m vaguely aware of Elaine taking a picture, and someone (probably Liam) jokingly calling out “No PDA in uniform!” but it still feels like we’re the only ones in the universe. 

Then the moment’s over, we get changed, and after the garage and uniform racks are put away, we get dinner. Provided by the band boosters, it’s Sean’s Band-Famous Celebratory Pulled Pork Lot Food (With Vegan Option), Ohhh Baby!

Seriously, that’s what we call it. Complete with Kool-Aid man “Ohhh Baby!”. 

It’s hilarious. 

 

 

 

This is where the story ends, with Kaitlyn and Levi sitting on a parking bumper, sitting next to each other, crowded with a dozen or so other band people, eating lukewarm but still delicious AF pulled pork, making stupid puns, singing the show, under the barely-there stars. As silly as it may be, they wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Not a single thing. Because, what defines home is the people in it, and right now, among their friends, Kaitlyn and Levi are truly home.

 

_Be it ever so humble,_

_Wherever you roam,_

_There’s nowhere quite like it,_

_There’s no place like home._

 

 

_There’s no place like home._

**Author's Note:**

> If either real Kaitlyn or real Levi is reading this, I really ship you guys so much. You would be SO GODDAM CUTE TOGETHER and I ship it so much (but if you don’t want to have that ship sail I’m cool with that too)


End file.
